


Click your heals

by Ischa



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Jim lives the perfect life OR Jim is Coraline with a kitchen knife.</p><p>
  <i>Jim tended to kill the things that made him feel unworthy, or threatened him in any way. Spock (or whatever it was) was something to be killed his mind supplied unhelpfully.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Click your heals

**Title:** Click your heals  
 **Pairing:** Spock/Kirk  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** The one where Jim lives the perfect life OR Jim is Coraline with a kitchen knife.  
 _Jim tended to kill the things that make him feel unworthy, or threatened him in any way. Spock (or whatever it was) was something to be killed his mind supplied unhelpfully._  
 **Warning(s):** sex, violence, kind of dark  
 **Author’s Notes:** Written for allfaltering. Part of the 13 days to Samhain ficathon.  
 **Word Count:** 1.494  
 **Beta:** seizo74  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~1~  
Jim was feeling weird when he woke up in sickbay. But then he often felt weird when he woke up in sickbay. Bones was staring down at him, annoyed.

“Did I nearly die again?” Jim asked.

“Do you do anything else?” Bones said.

“Captaining the ship?”

“We both know it’s more like a hobby than a real job for you,” Bones answered and hypoed him.

“I hate you,” Jim slurred.

“Why do I even bother…” Bones answered long suffering and then Jim blacked out again.

~+~  
When he woke up again sickbay was quiet and Bones nowhere to be seen. Jim sat up carefully, took stock of his injuries and decided that they weren’t as life threatening as Bones said. Bones was always so over-dramatic. He put his feet on the floor and looked for his clothes. No way was he walking out of here in only the hospital gown. Jim was sure Bones only insisted on them to be able to laugh at Jim.  
He located his clothes on a chair a few feet away, grabbed them and got dressed.

~+~  
He didn’t see anyone on the corridor to his quarters and if he weren’t so tired and still groggy from whatever Bones gave him earlier he would’ve been alarmed. As it was he only got into his own bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

~2~  
Jim woke to sunshine outside his window, he stretched and smiled. The pillow felt warm as did the sun on his skin.  
He sat up with a start.

“What the fuck?” he said to no one in particular, because there wasn’t anyone in the bedroom except him.

There were a few things quite alarming going on here.  
First: He was not on his ship.  
Second: this was not his bed.  
Third: HE WAS NOT ON HIS SHIP.

“What the hell,” he muttered and got up. He didn’t feel any pain. He was also naked. Completely naked. He looked around and as he couldn’t find any clothes he grabbed the sheets and looped them around his hips. The room was warm and bright: Soft colours everywhere.  
The hall outside led to a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and outside a garden. Badly in shape like no one cared about it enough to make it pretty. Jim kind of liked it .  
In fact, when he thought about it, standing in the too high grass, this was his perfect house and perfect garden.  
The only thing missing was his perfect wife and maybe children. Jim never thought much about children. He knew he wouldn’t have any, he didn’t want them on dangerous missions or alone at home. Waiting and wondering when their dad would be home or if. It had been bad enough for him and Sam. And they had Frank. Oh well…nothing left to do about that. Water under the bridge.  
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sunshine for a second or two longer. Nothing wrong with that either. He would go back into the house in a few minutes and then figure out what the hell this was and how he could get back to his ship.

~+~  
“You’re up,” someone said and Jim knew that voice, but not that tone.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile and turned around, because of course it would be Spock. Spock didn’t quite smile back, but he raised and eyebrow and that Jim learned over the two years they were on the Enterprise together was as good as a smile. “Where are my clothes?” he asked. Spock’s eyes stayed fixed on his face.

“Did you try the closet?”

“Huh…and why was I naked this morning?”

“We fucked like bunnies when we came back yesterday…” Spock said. He looked a bit concerned. “You did hit your head pretty badly…” he concluded.

“I did? What’s new with that?” Jim asked. Spock gave him a look.

“I made breakfast,” Spock said ignoring Jim’s words. “Come in, the grass is still wet. It’s so early.”  
Jim wiggled his toes: the grass _was_ wet from morning dew. He didn’t feel it a second ago. He didn’t feel it before Spock said it.

~+~  
They didn’t eat. Jim had half a cup of coffee and then they fucked against the counter. It left a painful mark on his hip, like Spock’s fingers did. He came so hard it was almost painful. He sank down to the floor, his back against the counter.

“I need the other half of my coffee, now,” he said and Spock ran a hand through Jim’s hair and then got him his half cold coffee. It still tasted like the best coffee ever.

“You don’t want to shower first?” Spock asked.

“I know you are a squeamish fucker, you go. I’ll drink this and try to get myself together in the meantime,” Jim said with a grin.  
Spock nodded and did the thing were he smiles without really smiling and then left Jim alone in the kitchen. Jim leaned his head against the counter and breathed. Okay, he thought, okay. This is not real. It can’t be, because I’m a starship captain and he is my Vulcan first officer and we don’t fuck. His body disagreed on this one with him, of course. He could still feel Spock's hands on his skin, his breath; hear the soft pants against his ear. He set the mug down and nearly laughed. Spock. Spock was his perfect housewife. Fuck.

 

~3~  
There was no sign that Spock knew what was going on. Jim felt like he was living variations of the same day over and over again.  
He woke up in tangled sheets, got up naked, got some coffee or went to the bathroom first. Searched for clothes he never found anyway. He and Spock fucked. In the living room on the couch. In the shower, in the dining room. On one memorable occasion outside on the wet grass. Spock had shivered.  
Sometimes he felt like this life was wearing him out and on other days he never wanted to leave at all. But this wasn’t real and he needed to get back where he belonged.

“I want to go home,” Jim said one day as he was preparing dinner.

“This is home,” Spock answered.

“No, it’s not,” Jim said.

“You’re bleeding,” Spock observed and Jim looked down and yes, he was bleeding, because he cut himself without noticing it. He only noticed when Spock said it. “Let me see,” Spock was at his side in a second and then Jim’s finger was in Spock’s mouth and Jim found himself pressed against the counter again.  
They fucked on the floor hard and desperate and later Spock showed him all the bruises he left on Jim’s body. Jim only started to feel the pain then.

~+~  
The world around him was what he imagined his perfect life would be, but Spock made it. He was sure of it. At least Spock made Jim feel. Whatever Spock wanted him to feel and Spock did punish him for wanting to leave. In small ways. Like cutting his finger, like stumbling over something and wrench his ankle. He left bruises all over Jim’s body like a mark, like a reminder. The worse thing was, that he also rewarded Jim for good behaviour. Jim felt like a pet – and he didn’t like that feeling.  
Jim tended to kill the things that made him feel unworthy, or threatened him in any way. Spock (or whatever it was) was something to be killed his mind supplied unhelpfully. Because even if he didn’t love Spock _before_ , he did now.  
When Jim finally killed Spock they were in bed, fucking face to face with Jim deep inside Spock. Spock’s eyes were closed and Jim slit his throat with the same kitchen knife he cut his finger a while ago. The blood poured out a bright green and Jim couldn’t look away from it. It covered them both and Spock did not open his eyes, but he did smile. Jim held the knife in his hand so hard he was sure it would leave an imprint.

~+~  
He woke up in sickbay. Bones was looking down at him.

“Did I nearly die again?” Jim asked.

“Do you do anything else?” Bones said with a small smile.

Jim turned his head and saw Spock on the bed close buy. “Did he nearly die?”  
Bones kept silent. “Bones, did he?”

“Yeah,” Bones answered and didn’t look at Jim.

“Did I nearly kill him?” he asked. He knew the answer to that one. He knew.

“It wasn’t you,” Bones said, “it was whatever did this to you…”

Jim closed his eyes. He knew better.

~end~


End file.
